


That kind of party

by misspe



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:38:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspe/pseuds/misspe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You all know what this is about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That kind of party

**Author's Note:**

> Fixed version, thanks to Kickernyc! <3

"Observe or participate?"

Lecter's voice was like smoke, sweet like candied apples, and yet a guttural murmur, like his vocal cords had been smoked in thyme.

Bedelia felt paralyzed. Her body would not obey her. She stayed still for a long pause. She knew she should take advantage of the opportunity and as soon as possible go-go-go, but instead her eyes were glued on him - Hannibal - and what he did to Anthony Dimmond.

This evening took an unexpected turn.

"What?"

Ineloquent, a word uttered to buy some time. She knew she would not get away with it, but maybe she could think of something better.

If she had any luck.

Anthony's body bent over the table like the elastic side of a string instrument. Hannibal lured tones of exquisite quality out of the man.

Tones of exquisite quality, or whatever came to light between the fabric of his scarf, which Hannibal had stuffed into his mouth.

Anthony's eyes were watering - in pleasure or pain, or both. But there was no fear, only tense expectation, as his long-limbed fingers grabbed the fine material of Hannibal’s clothes.

"Are you, in this very moment, observing or participating?"

Demanding. He did not look at her. His gaze was fixed on Dimmonds face, almost devotedly, inhaling Mr. Dimmonds physical responses to his actions, but he had not forgotten about her. On the contrary.

She knew she was testing his patience, and yet she could not help it. He was so erratic lately. Had been for a long time. Always

Like an animal that had been let off the leash, but didn't quite know what it should do with his freedom. Hannibal had freed himself. He thought at least.

Bedelia knew he lived in a self-constructed fairy-tale, one only he believed in

Wanted to believe.

But it wasn't enough.

How could it be?

"Observing," she said.

Lecter's hand disappeared between Dimmond's bare legs, and a sigh left the lips of a man who had no idea of how dangerous the current situation was.

Bedelia swallowed. Her throat was as dry as the Gobi Desert. There was still wine in her glass, but she didn’t dare reach for it.

"You say you are observing, Bedelia, but this is participation."

His tongue slid over Dimmond’s neck, following the artery and she could almost even taste the salt on the sweaty skin of the high-spirited man.

Then her gaze locked with Lecter's dark amber eyes that gleamed in the dim light like clotted blood. Her heart missed a beat.

"Did you know what he would do? I'd prefer it if you answer honestly."

She thought about it, tried it, but didn’t need to. She was just looking for a reason, a negation, but there was none. He was right. Everything has been expected.

"I was curious."

Her voice was a shadow, a poor imitation of her own. It sounded like an apology. And she felt guilty. Because of so many things.

Dimmond squirmed under Hannibal's fingers, his tongue, his teeth brushed against him, caressed, just teasing and and nipping, when they were capable of so much more, as Bedelia knew, shuddering at the possibilities Hannibal's mouth could inflict.

"You were curious what would happen," Hannibal said and blew a kiss to Anthony's temple.

"You were curious what Mr. Dimmond would do."

Anthony groaned softly when he heard his name. Bedelia was highly impressed. She had thought Dimmond would be already beyond good and evil, no longer able to follow their conversation.

Hannibal smiled gently as he looked down on Dimmond. He worked with gentle force his hand and drank every sound he reaped out of the man like honey from his lips.

Heat filled Bedelia’s cheeks.

"Did you expect our thoughts? With the pros and cons, the justifications?"

It took a while but she nodded, almost imperceptibly as she fought the excitement that spread inside her like the precursor of a fire that she couldn’t stop.

Hannibal turned his arm and Dimmond screamed into the scarf between his teeth.

Saliva dripped from his stubbly chin.

"Yes."

"Did you expect that?"

She closed her eyes, swallowed hard, biting her lower lip, repressing a weak sound. Heat, there was heat, in her face, in her chest, in her abdomen, gathered, bundled, it it burned her like the blade of a sharp knife, which buried itself in her core.

Her fingers twitched, but instead of touching up, her hands stayed where they were. There was no reason. Under the table, he would not see it if she did, but she knew he would know.

Somehow.

"Yes."

A smile that was none, maybe just a poor copy of it. It crossed Hannibal features, while he wiped sweaty curls from Dimmonds forehead with the knuckles of his fingers.

"That's participation, Bedelia."

And so she became an accomplice in a game she couldn’t control, once again, but she was no fool.

Hannibal longed for company, but neither she nor Anthony Dimmond could even begin to replace the man whom he seemed to need, like the air he breathes.

Bedelia reached out and grabbed Anthony's hand. His fingers pressed. Hannibal nodded. And she thought it probably helped that Dimmond resembled Will Graham.


End file.
